Camp Movement

A rarity: there was new movement in the homeless encampment on my morning walk. I meandered to assess it. All you can do is assess because trying to fathom the movements is totally impossible.

A vandalized RV that had been marooned for nine months was now across the street from its previous unmovable position. Well, not really across the street, but apparently driven or towed 50 feet and then abandoned at a bizarre angle. It made no sense.

A U-Haul pick-up truck was hooked up to a dilapidated trailer and seemed ready to pull it out to somewhere, providing the trailer would survive more than a mile's travel. Another pick-up truck was idling with an improvised cart piled with gear towed to the back. They were ready to go somewhere, but where?

Another man was on his knees trying to chain what remained of rusted, burned and spray-painted mini pick-up to a tow hitch of a larger battered pick-up. The mini pick-up's bed was loaded with objects of unimaginable purpose. If you put this installation in a museum, it might qualify as a piece of art. On the street, it's more of a memorial to the victims of capitalism.

A pile of sedan that was formerly shrouded in canopies and stuffed with possessions was gone. How it left was beyond reckoning.

Three other RVs from yesterday morning were gone. Where to?

But...this being the New American Diaspora, at least another six or seven vehicles serving as domiciles had take up residence in the encampment and there were two new trailers unaccompanied by trucks to tow them. How did they ever get here?